The Dragonborn Alchemist
by Deinroh
Summary: Young Deinroh, raised by Greybeards all his life discovers that he is both the Dragonborn, and the Philosopher. This is his tale. Disclaimer:I don't own the rights to this game.
1. Regrets

_**The Dragonborn**_

_**A Quick Note from the Author:**_

_**This story is heavily based on the game Skyrim. If you do not understand some of the story's terminology, I highly recommend that you check the Wiki. By the way, the story is PG-13 for violence. Thank you, enjoy!**_

If anyone came up to me right now, anyone at all, they would look into my face and see nothing. No emotion, no spirit. They would see an utterly boring person, with an utterly boring life. They don't even realize how wrong they are. People think that just because I'm a Breton, I have an easy life. They believe that nothing bothers me, that I just take care of business with my unique gifts and go on my way. But there is a reason for that, a danger behind my legacy. I am hunted by dragons, demons and gods. No one is safe around me.

After that truly optimistic introduction, I would like to ease up the mood. My name is Deinroh Mafaeraak, and it means "Eternal Keeper of Balance" in Draconic. For those of you that don't know what I mean by that, I can speak the language of dragons. Go ahead, take a moment to gasp, or curse my name. I understand that most dragons are beasts of great power and burden. I understand that my soul is considered demonic, but dragons are nothing like the Daedra in Oblivion. You can trust me. I have seen through my ancestors eyes as they walked through those fields of impurity. My father had always thought of songs for me in the Draconic that the elder Grey-Beards taught him.

"Dragonborn, Dragonborn, by his honor is sworn to keep evil forever at bay. And the fiercest foes rout when they hear triumph's shout. Dragonborn for your blessing we pray"

I of course understood this perfectly, while everyone else struggled to decode the strange words. But there were always people that excelled in Draconic, people like her. Her name was Kogaan and she was the only person that I ever truly respected and later, loved. Fiery temper, a heart of gold, and emerald green eyes defined her better than anything. I used to write poems for her as we sat in an old Oak tree. They told of nature, adventure, action, and rewards. She never got tired of listening to them. One day, after class had ended, she asked me to meet her at the Oak tree. I, of course, was so happy that I completely forgot about what day it was. The 22nd of Frostfall, the day of the Honoring of The Gods. If anyone missed the ceremony, they where cursed by the Gods and bound to Oblivion unless otherwise spared. I of course was lucky. I got a second chance.

When I saw Kogaan at the tree, I knew that she was planning on an expedition. She had her bag packed, and her Blessed wooden staff at hand. I wasn't surprised; she usually sprung adventures on me at the last minute. She didn't even have to say a word before she started walking and I started following, it was the regular routine. We always travelled in silence at first. When we walked about two miles, we reached a clearing.

"Ready?" She asked.

"Just lead the way m'lady." I teased.

She swept aside the bushes to reveal a gorgeous tree house. It was a dark amber color, probably made of cherry tree wood or mahogany. The windows had cute little decorations of snowflakes and leaves. A light lilac scent filled the air around the house, and tiny fireflies had begun to gather at the base of the tree. But something was wrong. There was a tension in the air; the fireflies weren't gathering at the tree, they were hiding in it. As I inspected the peaceful terrain, a figure darted out from under a tree. It was a Khajiit assassin with a knife.

"Run," she told me, "he's after you."

I couldn't run though, I had to stay and fight. I couldn't let her die, as she surely would.

The assassin was getting closer, moving slowly now, mockingly.

"Get away you bastard!" Kogaan yelled as she flung flames and frost at him from her staff.

The Khajiit smiled and dodged the attacks. I had to do something. She was losing. I darted from behind the bush and hit the assassin with a Fire Rune. It was enough to buy us time to get away, but not enough to save Kogaan's life. As she ran towards me, I wondered why she wasn't using her staff to finish him off. I heard the sound of an arrow flying towards me, and as it neared, a sudden burst of flame grilled it to shreds. But then another sound emerged from a nearby tree. The assassin wasn't alone. I could do nothing but stand and watch as the arrow pierced her chest, and she dropped her staff. I had one last stand, one last fighting chance to leave at least one of us alive. The Elders had taught me my first Words of Power just yesterday, and the hatred I felt was enough to convince me to use this sacred power. I turned toward the archer in the tree, and time slowed down. The archer had just released his second arrow, coated in a Soul Trap.

"FUS, ROH DAH!" I bellowed as a demonic wave of energy sent the man and his arrow into the tree. His arrow pieced his head, and he was missing an arm by the time I could focus enough to see him. I heard voices in the distance; the villagers had heard my Shout. They were coming to get me, just me. I hated myself so much. Had I used the shout earlier, she would still be alive. I kneeled next to her, I shed a few tears, and for just a moment, her eyes shined again, and she smiled.

"Till we meet again." She whispered.

Her eyes closed, and she went cold.

I can't say that I've forgiven myself completely, but the pain I felt when I saw the Elders carry her casket was enough to make me leave the funeral. There were just some things that had to be left in the past. A few years later, I turned 19, and the Grey-Beard Elders had taught me enough Words of Power to topple a city. I was ready to depart. I didn't ever believe in goodbyes, so I walked away without saying a word. I left a letter for my father, telling him of the good that I wanted to do. The first city I came across was Riften. It wasn't easy wandering around Skyrim aimlessly looking for a small town to stay at for the night, so Riften seemed very inviting. I paid for a room in the first inn that I found, and began wandering the town while the sun was still up. I didn't realize it, but every Khajiit that looked me in the eye, I gave a sharp and pained look. My aimless walk through the streets was riddled with bad memories, so in the end I decided to go to the inn and rest.

A light awoke me, an orange glow emanating from the windows. Daytime had come. I went downstairs and found my father staring intently at his hands.

"May I ask what you're doing here?" I questioned.

"Deinroh, we need to talk." He replied.

"Go ahead."

"When your mother disappeared three years ago, she left us with one thing. She left us with the other half of a song I wrote for you when you were little. She wrote the other half and completed the song."

"How is this relevant?"

"The song," he sighed and said, "is a prophecy. About you. For you."

"What truth lies within the words?" I asked.

"And the scrolls have foretold of black wings in the cold that when brothers wage war come unfurled Alduin, Bane of Kings, ancient shadow unbound with a hunger to swallow the world."

"Alduin." I whispered, "I need to fight Alduin."

"You don't only need to fight him, you need to kill him." Answered my father.

And with that, he left the inn with a wave of his hand and the love in his eyes. He really did believe in me, even if I didn't. I paid the tab and went outside to think about my father's words. Alduin, the God of Chaos and Destruction, the fiercest dragon. How many stories had I heard about a Dragonborn killing a God? One, maybe? But that wasn't a God, it was a Daedric prince. My intent thinking caused me to literally bump into a passing merchant.

"Hey watch where you're going kid!" he yelled as he unsheathed his sword. "You wouldn't want to get hurt out here would you? Or where you just trying to pick my pocket?"

"Sheath your sword, brother. I mean no harm." I replied calmly.

"Well maybe you mean no harm, but I've got a family to feed. We're in the middle of the Throat of the World, no one can hear us, and I have a knife. That sounds like a chance worth taking." The merchant said.

"I refuse to fight you. It is an unfair match." I replied.

"Fine, I'll throw away the knife." The merchant said as he tossed his sword to the ground.

"I meant for you." I stated calmly.

The merchant ran at me with his fists in front of his face. I tried not to laugh as I dodged his attacks. I honestly thought that the Grey-Beards' lessons on agility were ridiculous. I'd been proven wrong.

"Stand still! Stop squirming!" he yelled as he fell to the ground from exhaustion.

"Do you yield?" I asked.

"Yield" he whispered.

I gave him a hand and helped him stand up.

"You've got some skill kid. I'm sorry I tried to kill you but this damned war is messing with everyone's head, including mine."

War? No one had told me of war.

"The Imperials and the Stormcloaks are at it again. Those damned politicians and their evil laws are tearing Skyrim apart."

"What side do you believe in?" I asked with great interest.

"I believe in what ever side is going to put food on the table and ale in my stomach after a long hard day." He exclaimed with a haughty laugh.

I could tell that the conversation had ended. We began walking together in the same direction, no questions asked. Wherever he went, I followed. When we got to the bottom of the mountain, we were greeted by unwelcome faces. Marauders. Tons of them. They were hiding in the bushes, jumping out of trees, and standing behind rocks. The savage, deprived, and starved pack of humans looked at us with the eyes of wild animals. They didn't even speak before they unleashed a flurry of arrows that landed around us in a neat circle. It was only a warning shot.

"Let me show you how we do it on the top of the mountain." I whispered.

I faced the hungry faces of the marauders and felt the energy start to flow, I could feel the warm tingle of destruction and power numb my fingers and tighten my throat. This was going to be a strong one.

"IIZ!"

Each marauder was covered in a clean patch of ice that instantly killed them. Quick, clean, no mess, it was the most eco friendly way to solve your life threatening problems.

The merchant just stood and stared, even his ox had wide eyes.

"Feel free to crush the ice if you want, every part of them is frozen, and the smaller chunks will just evaporate quicker." I teased.

He just looked in awe. Not a word coming from his mouth, until he finally bowed and said,

"My name is Draalfus. Would you do me the honor of traveling with me, Dragonborn?"

"I would love to, but how do you know that I am not just a Grey-Beard?" I asked.

He pointed to the sky directly behind me. I had hit a dragon with my shout and froze the whole thing stiff, it was falling while its soul was being pulled out of its body. I saw the bright orange energy seep out of the dragon's mouth and rush towards me. I was covered in a familiar aura, an aura that I had no memory of experiencing. Why did this feeling seem familiar? I was floating now, coming off the ground while the light and energy seeped into every cell in my body. It abruptly ended, and I was thrown to the ground without hesitation.

"Dragonborn, Dragonborn, by his honor is sworn to keep evil forever at bay. And the fiercest foes rout when they hear triumph's shout. Dragonborn for your blessing we pray. And the scrolls have foretold of black wings in the cold that when brothers wage war come unfurled Alduin, Bane of Kings, ancient shadow unbound with a hunger to swallow the world."

The song kept playing in my head, I saw the faces of my ancestors singing and chanting in perfect Draconic while I struggled to keep consciousness. Finally, I gave in and passed out.

_**End of Part 1**_

_**Stay tuned!**_


	2. Journey's Beginning

**The Dragonborn**

**Chapter 2**

A light awoke me, an orange glow emanating from the windows. Daytime had come. I went downstairs and found my father staring intently at his hands.

"May I ask what you're doing here?" I questioned.

"Deinroh, we need to talk." He replied.

"Go ahead."

"When your mother disappeared three years ago, she left us with one thing. She left us with the other half of a song I wrote for you when you were little. She wrote the other half and completed the song."

"How is this relevant?"

"The song," he sighed and said, "is a prophecy. About you. For you."

"What truth lies within the words?" I asked.

"And the scrolls have foretold of black wings in the cold that when brothers wage war come unfurled Alduin, Bane of Kings, ancient shadow unbound with a hunger to swallow the world."

"Alduin." I whispered, "I need to fight Alduin."

"You'll need to do much more than that. I'm sorry, but I can't help." Implored my father.

And with that, he left the inn with a wave of his hand and the love in his eyes. He really did believe in me, even if I didn't. I paid the tab and went outside to think about my father's words. Alduin, the God of Chaos and Destruction, the fiercest dragon. How many stories had I heard about a Dragonborn killing a God? One, maybe? But that wasn't a God, it was a Daedric prince. My intent thinking caused me to literally bump into a passing merchant.

"Hey watch where you're going kid!" he yelled as he unsheathed his sword. "You wouldn't want to get hurt out here would you? Or were you just trying to pick my pocket?"

"Sheath your sword, brother. I mean no harm." I replied calmly.

"Well maybe you mean no harm, but I've got a family to feed. We're in the middle of the Throat of the World, no one can hear us, and I have a knife. That sounds like a chance worth taking." The merchant said.

"I refuse to fight you. It is an unfair match." I replied.

"Fine, I'll throw away the knife." The merchant said as he tossed his sword to the ground.

"I meant for you." I stated calmly.

The merchant ran at me with his fists in front of his face. I tried not to laugh as I dodged his attacks. I honestly thought that the Grey-Beards' lessons on agility were ridiculous. I'd been proven wrong.

"Stand still! Stop squirming!" he yelled as he fell to the ground from exhaustion.

"Do you yield?" I asked.

"Yield" he whispered.

I gave him a hand and helped him stand up.

"You've got some skill kid. I'm sorry I tried to kill you but this damned war is messing with everyone's head, including mine."

War? No one had told me of war.

"The Imperials and the Stormcloaks are at it again. Those damned politicians and their evil laws are tearing Skyrim apart."

"What side do you believe in?" I asked with great interest.

"I believe in what-ever side is going to put food on the table and ale in my stomach after a long hard day." He exclaimed with a haughty laugh.

I could tell that the conversation had ended. We began walking together in the same direction, no questions asked. Wherever he went, I followed. When we got to the bottom of the mountain, we were greeted by unwelcome faces. Marauders. Tons of them. They were hiding in the bushes, jumping out of trees, and standing behind rocks. The savage, deprived, and starved pack of humans looked at us with the eyes of wild animals. They didn't even speak before they unleashed a flurry of arrows that landed around us in a neat circle. It was only a warning shot.

"Let me show you how we do it on the top of the mountain." I whispered.

I faced the hungry faces of the marauders and felt the energy start to flow, I could feel the warm tingle of destruction and power numb my fingers and tighten my throat. This was going to be a strong one.

"IIZ!"

Each marauder was covered in a clean patch of ice that instantly killed them. Quick, clean, no mess, it was the most eco-friendly way to solve a life threatening problem.

The merchant just stood and stared, even his ox had wide eyes.

"Feel free to crush the ice if you want, every part of them is frozen, and the smaller chunks will just evaporate quicker." I teased.

He just looked in awe. Not a word coming from his mouth, until he finally bowed and said,

"My name is Draalfus. Would you do me the honor of traveling with me, Dragonborn?"

"I would love to, but how do you know that I am not just a Grey-Beard?" I asked.

He pointed to the sky directly behind me. I had hit a dragon with my shout and froze the whole thing stiff, it was falling while its soul was being pulled out of its body. I saw the bright orange energy seep out of the dragon's mouth and rush towards me. I was covered in a familiar aura, an aura that I had no memory of experiencing. Why did this feeling seem familiar? I was floating now, coming off the ground while the light and energy seeped into every cell in my body. It abruptly ended, and I was thrown to the ground without hesitation.

"Dragonborn, Dragonborn, by his honor is sworn to keep evil forever at bay. And the fiercest foes rout when they hear triumph's shout. Dragonborn for your blessing we pray. And the scrolls have foretold of black wings in the cold that when brothers wage war come unfurled Alduin, Bane of Kings, ancient shadow unbound with a hunger to swallow the world."

The song kept playing in my head, I saw the faces of my ancestors singing and chanting in perfect Draconic while I struggled to keep consciousness. Finally, I gave in and passed out.


	3. Guided Awakening

**The Dovahkiin**

**Chapter 3**

_**"Awaken, Dragonborn."**_

"Deinroh? Deinroh? You alright buddy? Can you hear me? Hell, wake up man!"

My eyes snap open and everything i see has a strange green hue. Draalfus takes a step back.

"You're eyes, they're still emerald green." He whispered.

I blinked once again, and the phenomenon ended.

Draalfus was in shock; his face was covered in blood. Everything around us was on fire. Trees were toppled and burned. The ground was black. In the distance, Draalfus's oxen laid, burned and decayed. Half of the forest was ruined. He was right about the symbols, though, they were everywhere. Covering the ground around us, always the same symbol. It looked like a little man with a crown across his forehead. The Philosopher's Stone.

"When you passed out, the sky turned black. There was a killer monsoon, and another dragon flew out of the sky. It turned its head and glared directly at us. You stood up, and your eyes were glowing. You spoke a strange language, it wasn't even Draconic. Then there were... symbols. Covering the sky. And a flash... a red flash. It disappeared."

"And the...voices," Draalfus continued, "I heard them chanting, taunting! They wouldn't stop, they just kept singing and... they cut me. My Soul! Like ice..."

It had the power to drive people mad, the Philosopher's Stone. Taking any form, and creating, or destroying, whatever it decided to.

_"The Stone with a soul of its own"_

Voices. Draalfus shrieked in agony and fell to the ground. His back had the bloody mark of the Philosopher's Stone on it, with red gas leaking out. I felt my palms pulse loudly. I had the same marks on them. In the distance, i saw a gigantic carving in the face of the Throat of the World, the alchemic mark of the successful creation of a Philosopher's Stone. Blood seeped into my eyes and blinded me. I dragged the near-dead Draalfus across the destroyed ground as the night progressed. A small cottage was only a few hundred meters from the epicenter of the battle. Even if Marauders lived in there, Draalfus needed help.

Passing in and out of consciousness and intense pain, we made it to the cottage four hours later. An elderly man and his wife welcomed us and tended to our wounds. I was careful not to show them my palms, but at some point the stream of blood coming from my hands was apparent. After bandaging my hands, the man called me into his room.

"Deinroh Mafaeraak." He said, "The man who shouldn't exist."

"What?" I asked, he wasn't making any sense. How did he know my name?

"Do you know anything about alchemy, son? Have you heard of Thoth or his writings?" The man said patiently, i had no response. "There is something called the Pattern, basically the blueprint of the world. Thoth wrote instructions on how to create a Philosopher's Stone, in correspondence to the Pattern. But with every pattern is an exception."

"I'm the exception?" I implied.

"Yes, you're a mistake, a glitch in the system." He implored. "You aren't supposed to exist. Alduin tried to make a Philosopher's Stone. He wanted to create his own realm. Some gods do this; it is only natural that they would want a land of their own. But, he was careless. Taking the easy way out, he accidentally created you, the only thing in Mundus that can destroy him."

"I'm listening." I remarked regretfully.

"Call me the Alchemist." he said.


	4. Divine Blood

**The Dovahkiin**

**Chapter 4**

The Alchemist was a kind man. He let me stay at his cottage while Draalfus rested and healed. He showed me the wonders of ancient alchemy, and enticed me to understand the philosophy and symbolism behind it. As I soon came to discover, the old man had actually built a small library filled to the brim with old alchemy books that dated back to 300 B.C, and were divided into three sections according to the knowledge they contained. The Alchemist had told me about them once; the Philosophicum was the section that focused on realizing and understanding the world around us and what is really there, the Theoreticum focused on how the world works, and the Practicum focused on how to use that knowledge to create things such as Philosophical Mercury, and the Philosopher's Stone. I was the only other person aside from the Alchemist who was allowed in the library, but the Alchemist had yet to reveal the truth to me. I still didn't know exactly what a Philosopher is.

One night, about three months after the old couple had taken us into their home, I wandered into the library, half asleep and only half knowing what I was doing. I felt something strange stirring inside of me. It was compelling, no, commanding me to take each step forward into the library. The air was cold, and my heavy, bare feet grinded against the wooden floor with every step. But the feeling of happiness and nostalgia warmed me and kept me going. It reminded me of the feeling that lasted only a split-second before I passed out on that fate twisting night. I could smell the old texts on the shelves, the same smell that had been perceived by only a handful of alchemists in history.

My moment of solace ended abruptly in front of the painting at the far end of the library. I had never seen this painting before. It showed a unicorn and a stag meeting in a forest and an ouroboros carving on a large tree in the background. Come to think of it though, I distinctly remembered the Alchemist speaking of this particular scene. If I could only remember what he had said, I would know exactly what to do. Instead, I decided to trace the scene with my finger. But, the moment I touched the painting…

_Awaken._

The feeling overcame me again, but it was different. It was selfish and impulsive. It only cared about getting from point A to point B, whatever those variables may be. It was a force that would stop at nothing to achieve its goal. My vision blurred and tinted a light shade of red. Against my will, I began to trace my finger across the entire scene. A trail of shining crimson blood followed my traces, and bled into the painting as I continued, I felt the force taking over my full consciousness. I was entirely possessed.

The last thing I traced was the ouroboros on the tree. After that last detail, the force subsided, and I was alone and fully conscious again. I stepped back. The painting began to glow. I heard a click, and everything around me turned chaotic. Time slowed drastically as books flew off of the shelves. All of them seemed to orbit around me at the same time. They were so slow, that I could clearly read the text within them before they passed by me. I looked back at the entrance to the library, the Alchemist stood at the entrance with a reassuring smile. He was bluffing. I knew that we were both clueless as to what was happening. The scene turned gray, and time completely stopped around me. The books were stuck in place, and the Alchemist had a look of fear frozen on his face. When I looked back at the painting, I saw an old man's face beginning to stretch out of the scene in the painting. When its neck had extended long enough to be only a few inches away from my face, its eyes opened. The first thing that came to my attention was that the old man's eyes were green.

"Child," It spoke, "My name is Hermes Trismegistus. You may know me as Thoth or Hermes. I am a scribe that ventured into this reality from the realm of the gods to teach your kind the Master Philosophy. I have not much time. I apologize for my haste, but you must travel to Oblivion to reclaim my most precious artifacts, The Pillars of Hermes. They have already been opened, but only by the hands of greedy mortals. They were greedy for knowledge, and they got their wish. But if you, the Philosopher, were to open my Pillars, I am certain you would find something very different. You struggle to determine who you are, but your intentions are pure, and your blood is Divine. I leave you one thing to help you on your journey. The lost Emerald Tablet is yours. Let it guide you, and when the time is right, I will contact you. It has been an honor speaking to you."

The face seceded from the painting for just a moment, and then disintegrated in front of me as its eyes closed and the calm look on its face returned. Out of the painting emerged a green tablet made of stone, pure emerald, without a doubt. I began reading it aloud:

"Truly, without deceit, certain, and most veritable.

That which is Above corresponds to that which is Below

to accomplish the miracles of the One Thing.

And just as all things come from this One Thing,

through the meditation on One Mind,

so do all created things originate from this One Thing

through Transformation.

Its father is the Sun,

Its mother is the Moon,

The Wind carries it in its belly,

Its nurse is the Earth.

It is the origin of all,

The consecration of the Universe,

Its inherent Strength is perfected,

If it is turned into Earth.

Separate the Earth from Heaven,

The Subtle from the Gross,

gently and with great Ingenuity.

It rises from Earth to Heaven,

and descends again to Earth,

thereby combining within its

the powers of both the Above and the Below.

Thus you will obtain the Glory of the Whole Universe.

All Obscurity will be clear to you.

This is the greatest Force of all powers,

because it overcomes every Subtle thing

and penetrates every Solid thing.

In this way was the Universe created.

From this will come many wondrous Applications,

because this is the Pattern.

Therefore I am called Thrice Greatest Hermes,

having all three parts of wisdom of the Whole Universe.

Herein have I completely explained the Operation of the Sun."

I looked around, and time started to flow again. The books dropped to the ground, and I could see the Alchemist walking towards me. I looked at the Emerald Tablet again, but the text was different this time. It was replaced by strange symbols.

"Deinroh," the Alchemist exclaimed, "Did something just happen? For a split second, I felt time ripple. I didn't see anything though…"

I turned around to face him, with the Emerald Tablet still in my hands. When he saw the green crystalline stone in my hands, his eyes opened wide.

"Dear Mundus…" He whispered. "Let me see it."

I walked over and gently handed him the tablet.

"Divine Blood." The Alchemist stated, full of awe.

"Excuse me? I'm sorry what did you say about Divine Blood?" I asked. Thoth had mentioned that hadn't he?

"Divine Blood is the mark of the perfection of creation, specifically in organic matter, also called the "Blood of Gods" or "Philosopher's Liquid." Speaking of which, show me your palms."

I turned over my hands and showed him my palms. The streaks of crimson blood had dried onto my skin and were starting to turn into… pure gold.

"That is Divine Blood, young man. You didn't have that when you first came to my house. Do you know what this means? You are the Philosopher, the mortal equivalent of a God."

A God? I had a lot to learn.

"Oh," I started, "I should probably tell you this. I met Hermes Trismegistus just now, and he told me to travel to Oblivion to reclaim the lost Pillars of Hermes. The painting is where I obtained the tablet. Thoth gave it to me as a gift. Will you aid me on my travels, wise Alchemist?"

The Alchemist kneeled in front of me and said,

"Philosopher, I must now tell you the whole truth about your existence upon this Earth. Your Divine Blood has shown me that you are ready to achieve the Knowledge of the Sun. Deinroh Mafaeraak, after this, all Obscurity will be cleared to you, and Mundus itself will kneel to you. Let us begin."


End file.
